Smuthe Healing
by Nemolover
Summary: Firefighter Brandi Smuthe has led a lifetime marred by prejudice and intolerance. When tragedy strikes she is given a chance to live her life on her own terms, starting a journey that will take her around the world in a hail of espionage and romantic destruction all while under the eyes of star racer, Lightning McQueen, and her soon to be mentor, Finn McMissle.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey there, folks. I regrettably submit for your review yet another fanfiction.**

 ***crowd boos***

 **I know, but I just couldn't help myself. Blame Pixar! If they hadn't made Cruz Ramirez so damn adorable I would've gladly kept this story to myself. That being said, Disney and Pixar own all the copyrighted characters you love and recognize. The ones you don't are most likely my OCs.**

 **NO SPOILERS ALERT! This story has nothing to do with Cars 3. In fact, it's mostly a James Bond parody set in the world of Cars 2 that I started after I saw Skyfall (my first Bond movie) back in 2012. But Cruz is sooooooooo cute I wanted to write her in a sequel to this story. Well, I can't put up the sequel when you don't even know where the main character came from, so here it is; the story of how Brandi Smuthe (pronounced "smooth") became the world's greatest secret agent.**

 **This first chapter is pretty long and I apologize. I wanted to put all of her old life in this one chapter to set it apart from the others. The Brandi of this chapter is forever dead and gone.**

* * *

On a bright spring morning two fire red SUVs, a Chevrolet Trailblazer and a Pontiac Torrent, pulled onto the patio of a local bistro. The day was pleasantly mild as it wasn't humid or oppressively hot even though the sun neared its apex, but the shade of the patio's awning was still welcome. The bodies of both vehicles were overlaid in sanctioned decals, but they lacked the flashing lights and blaring sirens that their quicker, nimbler colleagues were outfitted with. A silver Corolla approached their table after about 10 minutes to take their orders.

"I'm really not all that thirsty. I think I'll just have a pint of coolant … synthetic please. Thank you," Brandi's focus remained on the convention center across the street from the eatery as she spoke to the waitress.

"Um … I'll have the same, uh … Sarah," said Skye, reading their server's nametag and managing to pay her more courtesy than her companion did. "I don't think I've ever seen you here before."

"Yeah, today is my first official day," gushed the attendant with a forged grin. "I'll be right back with your drinks."

"Looks like they're starting now, huh?" Asked Skye, following her friend's gaze from where they were parked at an outdoor table of their favorite café on campus.

Across the street, music and applause flowed from the enormous building and covered the comparably quiet grounds of Sonoma State University in a festive air. With the end of the spring semester, the streets were now completely bare.

"Anyway," spoke Brandi at last. "Last night on Naruto, they finally beat Kakuzu. Naruto delivered his size 16 rims right to Kakuzu's big ugly grille." She danced enthusiastically as she told the story of her favorite fictional hero.

"He kicked him in the face?" Wondered Skye.

"Well, no … he hit him with his new move; ras-"

"Rasen Wind Shuriken," interjected the Torrent with a chuckle.

"How did you know?"

"I'm a ninja of course," Skye grinned before spinning around and giving her tailgate a shake, thereby drawing attention to her license plate stamped with the letters I-R-N-I-N-J-A.

"Is that so? Well, I suppose ninjas weren't known for their grammar, " teased Brandi.

"Shut your fascia. You're just jealous because I got the plate first, but don't be. If anything ever happens to me, it's all yours. Besides, how did you even watch Naruto last night? We don't have a tv at home."

"Stayed late to help out in the library, in return they let me watch it on one of the computers. Anyhow, this episode made me think; … have you noticed that in these type of shows, the guy who trains the most always wins?"

"I think that makes obvious sense, don't you?"

"Well, yeah but … for example, Sasuke is considered a genius. He barely even has to try. Meanwhile, they say Naruto has no talent as a ninja and he has to work his wheels off just to be even with Sasuke. Yet, Naruto beats every opponent he meets no matter how strong they are. When they have their final battle I say he's going to destroy Sasuke, talent or no talent," said Brandi.

"He's so stubborn. I guess if you believe in yourself and never give up, you have to win eventually."

The breeze, warmed by the still rising sun, carried the dean's speech from the stage speakers and through the air, "These students are the smartest and most promising prospects to ever drive the halls of Sonoma State. Their tenacity will undoubted carry them over any obstacle to success."

"What a pretentious windbag," chuckled Skye. "You know he says that about every graduating class."

"Those poor saps have to sit over there and listen to him for the next 3 hours. Good thing we know better," the Trailblazer smirked. "Graduation ceremonies are such a waste of time. Take my picture, give me my diploma, and let me get on with my life."

"Amen to that."

The dean continued, "And without further ado; the graduates. _Angela Aarons_ …"

"Oh yeah, she's promising … if you consider McDonald's to be success," Brandi continued her jeering.

" _Dodge Adams … Torque Adams…_ "

"I thought Dodge got expelled."

" _Sipes Allbrite … Percy Allspark…_ "

Suddenly, the convention center erupted in cheers.

"Ooh, Percy! Yay!" Skye cheered excitedly at the mention of a well-respected classmate.

"Congratulations, Percy!" Brandi added, also letting her adoration of the boy momentarily overwhelm her. "He's so awesome."

"Obviously," the Torrent quipped as Percy's revering fans persisted in their admiration so long the dean had to try to read the next name over their yelling. "His German accent is so sexy."

"Yeah, but I prefer British ones," said Brandi as the screaming of Percy worship continued across the street. "Sheesh, Percy sure has a lot of friends."

"Yup … it sounds like … all the graduates do," Skye replied in deep thought.

The pair sat in silence for a long while before Brandi spoke again, "Skye?"

"Hmm?" She answered.

"You're my best friend. Hell, you're my only friend."

"Likewise."

"Isn't that sad? I mean who are we kidding? The only reason we're not at that ceremony is because it would be too humiliating for our names to be called and then we'd have to drive across the stage while nobody cheered for us!"

"Calm down, Brandi, don't make a scene."

However, Brandi's outburst had already drawn attention. Two red cars, a Scion tC and a Mustang, left their spots at the bar and parked themselves at the table adjacent to the girls. They were fully adorned in emergency gear. Light racks were fitted atop their roofs and into their grilles. Certification badges decorated their rear bumpers, and every smooth surface of their bodies was covered in a decal. The left side said 'fire', the right 'rescue', and upon their hoods was '911'.

"Brandi! Skye!" Exclaimed the Mustang. "What are you two doing here? I thought you were graduating today."

"We are, Roush," Brandi replied. "But the cool kids don't actually go to graduation."

Sarah rushed up to the firemen, beaming excitedly, "Can I get anything else for you gentlemen?"

"No thanks, miss. We'll just have the COM.E.T. please," Roush winked.

The server left and returned with a COM.E.T. and deposited it on the table. The COM.E.T., or COMputerized Euro Transferor, was a black box which contained a computer surrounded by an inner case of hard plastic and an outer case of rubber. Holes were machined in the cases for access to the computer's ports. The top was a screen that, when the computer was plugged into, turned on and allowed the user to access their bank information.

"Oh, technology," chuckled Roush as he plugged his iTenna into one of the ports and paid for his and his buddy's meal. "What will they think of next?

"Yeah," agreed his companion as he waived his iTenna around playfully. "An antenna that does more than pick up radio signals. It plugs into stuff so we can interact with it. It's just about the greatest invention ever!"

"You know, I heard some kid in London invented the C.O.M.E.T. A kid!"

"Smart kid, I hope he's not the same one who's starting all the fires over there."

Quite familiar with the equipment by now, Brandi changed the subject, "How long have you guys been here?"

"Oh, about 15 to 20 minutes," answered the tC. "You?"

"'15 to 20 minutes', Gene?! And you're getting the COM.E.T. already! We're pushing 40 minutes and we haven't even gotten our drinks yet!"

"Eh, they're probably under staffed," Gene shrugged off her concerns. "Did you girls get the Gask-its? They are so good."

"No, we just got the synthetic coolant," sighed Skye.

"Or we will be getting it … eventually … I hope," growled Brandi, giving Sarah a stare as she served a Porsche couple.

"No, girls, emergency vehicles get a _free_ plate of Gask-its," explained Roush. "Hey, Sarah!"

"Yes, Roush?!" Sarah zoomed up to the table, nearly leaving skid marks.

"Can we get some complimentary Gask-its for our coworkers here?"

Sarah looked at the two female SUVs with poorly concealed disgust, "Are you two emergency vehicles?"

"Yes, we are," Skye smiled pleasantly.

"That would be why he said 'coworkers' and why we're painted red with 'fire' and 'rescue' stickered on our asses, wouldn't it?" Brandi spoke through clenched teeth but, even in her annoyance, was too full of self-doubt to make eye contact.

"Oh, I guess I didn't notice," said the waitress as she left to put in the order.

Brandi's eyes followed Sarah as she drove into the kitchen, then they settled on a group of three vehicles in the corner: a Celica, an Eclipse, and an older Ford Explorer. The ornaments decorating their doors were the customary uniforms for employees of the café. The vehicles seemed to be having an intense conversation and judging by the way they stood, it was two against one. The Explorer was quiet. Her eyes were downcast and her whole face seemed to droop, completely devoid of energy. Meanwhile, the two female cars appeared to be blocking her escape with one on each side of her. The Eclipse left and went over to Sarah to whisper something to her. A forklift finished loading the Explorer's serving tray with drinks and SUV began to make her way to Brandi and Skye. Suddenly, Sarah bumped the tray as the Explorer passed, knocking it to the ground. The eatery fell quiet for a moment.

"SUVs are so clumsy," whispered the male Porsche to his wife.

Staring in utter disbelief, Brandi felt as though her tank was full of molten lead. "Did you see that?!" She asked her friend in a whisper so full of tension it was still rather loud.

"She dropped her tray-," Skye began.

"She didn't drop it! Those cars are bullying her!"

"Maybe she's new. Sometimes groups break in new members with a little bit of hazing."

"I'm going to the bathroom," Brandi replied tightly before pulling away from the table.

"Where's Brandi going?" Asked Gene.

"Bathroom … I think," Skye answered.

"Guys, it looks like there's more activity in Europe," Roush pointed to the bar's enormous flat screen with a tire.

"… This makes the third fire this month," reported the anchorman on the television. "The police believe it to be the work of a solitary arsonist. It is unknown what method is being used to start the blazes, but they have each been characterized as expanding rapidly to become huge conflagrations in mere minutes. The flames tend to be quite resilient as it takes large teams of fire fighters just to keep them from spreading. If anyone has any information on this they are asked to contact Scotland Yard or their local law enforcement."

"I so wish we were over there!" Shouted Roush. "We never see any action. Our last fire was like a month ago."

"It wasn't even a fire," corrected Gene. "It was a smoking oven that was jammed shut. If I have to respond to another elderly vehicle who overheated during sex or while driving to their mailbox, I'll go insane."

"Oh, yeah? Well, that's better than teaching fire safety at the Y."

Meanwhile, Brandi slowly made her way towards the Explorer as she attempted to clean up the mess.

"Uh, … w-what happened?" The Trailblazer stammered, struggling to sound nonchalant.

"I dropped my tray," the frazzled server replied hastily, not turning away from her task to purposely avoid eye contact.

"So, uh … are you new here?"

"I've been here two years," she answered, her eyes finally rising to catch Brandi's. "I see you and your friend all the time."

"Oh," Brandi responded, suddenly realizing she had no idea how to console her and wondering why she had even come over in the first place. She returned to her table feeling rather awkward and foolish.

"Hey look," chirped Skye as she sipped her coolant. "Our stuff finally came. The boys were right, the Gask-its are good. Try one."

"We'd better head home and get ready for work," said Brandi distantly.

"Yeah, we're taking off too," smiled the Mustang as he led his friend out of the eatery's patio. "See you girls at work!"

"Sarah," the Trailblazer stopped to give her server their COM.E.T. as she passed by. "I left you a big tip."

"Oh, thanks," Sarah flashed them an insincere smile as the two girls left the café. Curious, she activated the device then grumbled under her breath upon discovering that, instead of a dollar amount, typed in the 'tip' space was;

 _Stop being such a bitch._

Later, as they entered their small, two-garage unit, Skye pulled a notice off the main door that read:

 _You are behind in your rent. Please make this month's payment or you will be evicted._

\- _Management_

"Maybe we should start paying our rent again," Skye suggested.

"Yeah right. We're not paying until the complex's carwash is fixed," Brandi replied. "It's bad enough over twenty tenants have to share a teeny, five-bay carwash, but it's unacceptable when three of those bays don't even work!"

"I can see why that'd be such a big concern to you. You do smell like a tractor."

"Very funny, but for some of us being a firefighter isn't enough to pay the bills. Some of us need two jobs."

"I wouldn't call your racing a 'job'," teased Skye. "It's more of a … a … what's the word?"

"Hobby?"

"No, I was thinking 'unnecessary drain on your paycheck'. I mean, you spend all your money on stuff to make you a better racer and you never win."

At that, Brandi replied, "I'm getting better. When I start winning I'll make all my money back and more."

"I know you don't want to hear this, Brandi, but those cars don't want to see you win. In fact, the only reason they let you race with them is because they like watching you lose. We just have to face the fact that we live in a speed-dominated world where if you can't go zero-to-sixty in less than 4 seconds you're a second-class citizen."

"Maybe you're right, but I want to change all that. I want to be a great racer. I want to put sports cars to shame and show the world that greatness isn't measured by how streamlined your chassis is or how fast you are. Then they'll have to start respecting us. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Yes, it sounds wonderful but we both know you're just going to give up," sighed Skye. "In fact, I'm surprised you've stuck with it this long. Commitment really isn't your way."

Growing irritated by her friend's sudden snarky-ness, Brandi countered, "The only reason I give up on things at all is because I don't have anyone to support me!"

"I'm sorry, Brandi. I didn't mean to criticize you. In fact, I'm proud of you for sticking with something so difficult. I know I couldn't do it."

"It's fine. The truth is … I've really only stuck with it because … it's easier than coming home to this empty apartment."

"In that case, let's continue not paying our rent. Then we won't have to worry about coming home at all, " Skye joked.

The two friends laughed before prepping themselves for work.

Throwing herself upon her thick memory foam mattress, Skye groaned, "Ugh! I really don't want to go to work today. It's going to be a bad day."

"What makes you say that?" Inquired the TrailBlazer.

"We ran into Roush and Eugene outside of work. That's a bad omen you know."

"You're probably right but come on anyway. If you continuing working hard and get promoted to Fire Chief, we can afford a tv."

"No, not me. You should do it," the Torrent rectified. "With your bachelor's in psychology and your 'racing' experience I'm sure you'll get it."

"You've got the same degree I have! Now get up!" Brandi shoved her friend from her bed, "Besides, you have better people skills. I could never kiss as much ass as you do. I'm just lucky our waitress didn't spit in my drink."

"Oh, I thought mine tasted funny. I must've gotten yours by mistake."

Laughing together the whole time, the pair made their way to the local fire station. As soon as they entered, Roush rushed to greet them.

"Ladies, ladies, we're so glad you're here. Big Ed knocked over all the paint cans and we need you to mop the floor."

The girls drove out to the massive 4-engine garage. However, only one of the resident fire trucks was present. They approached the huge vehicle to assess the damage. His lower right side, as well as much of the floor, was covered in green paint.

"Oh Eddie, are you alright?" Skye soothed.

In a deep, gruff voice he replied, "Those guys are assholes."

"What happened?"

"I was catching some shuteye. They startled me and made me accidentally hit the paint shelf. I'm sorry."

Brandi pulled the R.F.C. from the storage closet and turned the machine on. Once active the Robotic Floor Cleaner hummed as it made short work of the mess.

"You're telling me those two morons couldn't do that?"

"Those two morons couldn't even spell R.F.C.," Brandi smirked. "Where are the other fire trucks?"

"Gene had Emma go do his presentation at the elementary school for him and Roush sent Joe and Alice home," Ed answered.

The TrailBlazer was flabbergasted to hear of the Mustang and tC's reckless decision-making, "What?! What if there's a fire?!"

"There isn't going to be a fire," Roush interjected as he drove past. "There's never a fire. So I'm not going to let 4 fire engines sit around and collect overtime for doing nothing!"

"You guys aren't doing anything … besides irritating Ed and making us clean up your messes!" Brandi argued back.

"We're supervising. It's one of the things we're paid to do, just like doing whatever your supervisor tells you is one of the things you're paid to do. So, get cleaning!"

After Roush left, Skye used her tire and a towel to wipe the paint from Ed's side, "See, Brandi? If you were fire chief we wouldn't have to take orders from Roush and Eugene anymore. In fact, you might even be able to 'fire' them … pun intended."

"You're probably right but I told you; I don't have the people skills for that. That's why I don't have any friends besides you," Brandi replied.

"Same here."

"Don't lie! You have lots of friends! There's that guy from our psychology class, that girl you shared notes with at the library, the girl who was in your advanced trigonometry class, and I know I've seen more."

"You mistake acquaintances for friends," Skye explained. "We're not close. I don't hang out with those vehicles and I certainly couldn't rely on them or talk to them like I do you. If I didn't have you around I'd be just as alone as you would be without me."

"Awww!" Brandi gushed at her friend's confession, teasing her further by nuzzling her fender.

Skye laughed, "You know, I've read a quote that states, 'If you are lonely when you are alone then you are in bad company.'"

The TrailBlazer stopped and gave the Torrent a strange look, "What the hell does that mean?"

"Well, I think it means that we should learn to be friends with ourselves."

"Wha? You mean like a real life shadow clone jutsu?

"That's not exactly what I meant but I guess it could work as an example. Suppose the shadow clone justu were real. People could be their own support when they didn't have the company and strength of friends or family to help them," Skye spoke soothingly as she led Brandi through a visualization. "Close your eyes and imagine that you're surrounded by clones of yourself that have their own thoughts and independent free wills. Now, imagine that they all want to hang out with you. They all think you're awesome and capable of achieving anything. They've all got your back 100%. How does that make you feel?"

"Pretty damn good. Too bad it's not real," Brandi pined.

"You have to _make_ it real … in your mind. I believe that's what the quote means. That is how we should feel about and treat ourselves all the time."

Suddenly, the station's alarm went off. Its piercing, rarely-used cry startling all the emergency vehicles.

"What the-?!" Brandi exclaimed, shocked from her meditation.

"Roush! Gene! You guys better not be trying to prank us again!" An irritated Skye warned.

"No, it's a real fire at the Sonoma Indoor Speedway. Dispatcher says it's pretty big," Roush was a mixture of excitement and worry. "There's no word on what caused it yet but a couple of racers and crewmembers are believed to be trapped inside."

"Roush! For some strange reason I can't get ahold of Emma, Alice, or Joe! What are we gonna do?!" Cried Eugene.

"We're not gonna panic about it, that's for sure! The rest of us will just have to go and do what we can, but keep trying to get in contact with them!" Instructed the Mustang.

"Ready, Eddie?!" Skye asked as she prepped the fire engine.

"I was built ready!" Ed grinned.

"Then let's fight some fires and save some lives!" Brandi shouted, leading the group from the station.

When the four rescue vehicles pulled up to the location, they were taken aback. Majority of the building was already in flames and large portions of the west end had collapsed already! Many vehicles were outside coughing and gasping for air but screaming and crying could still be heard inside.

"Oh … my … Dodge..." gasped Eugene, eyes wide with terror.

Even veteran Ed was nervous, "T-this is the biggest fire I've ever seen. There's no way I can put this out by myself."

"Don't talk like that, Eddie. You're not by yourself," comforted Skye. "We're here too."

"Alright, team, this is a really big building and it's coming down quick! We don't have much time and we don't know how many vehicles are trapped inside! One of you girls is gonna have to come help me and Gene search inside for survivors!" Directed Roush as he put on his mask and gear.

"No problem," Brandi volunteered, already suited up.

"Good! Skye, you help Ed suppress the flames where we'll be working. Once inside, we'll be able to cover more ground faster if we split up."

"I-I-I think I should stay out here and help Ed suppress the flames," Eugene stammered.

"Gene, I need your help inside, man!" Roush argued.

Another section of the building fell and cries of fear and agony rang through the air.

"There isn't time for this! It's okay, Roush! I'll go," said Skye. "Ed, can you clear the entrance so we can get inside?!"

"I'll do what I can!" The great fire engine directed a powerful burst of water to the speedway's East entrance. It took a few moments but he managed to extinguish the flames there.

Brandi, Skye and Roush hustled inside. Once in, the smoke was so thick they could barely see each other. After a quick perimeter check, the team established that the East wing was clear. It was still for the most part intact and all the vehicles in the East section had been able to make it out on their own.

"I'll go this way and search the North side! You two go that way and search the South side! One of you needs to push through to the collapsed West side, and we'll meet up with you there! Let's go!" Ordered Roush before turning and disappearing into the smoke.

"You heard the man," said Brandi as she led her friend deeper into the flaming establishment.

Carefully, the SUVs navigated the tumbled debris. They were about halfway through the southern wing.

"So far so good," said Brandi just before a wall came down before them, opening a path deeper into the section.

"Yeah, don't say that," advised Skye, taking point as she moved to the new opening. Inside, there was a green racecar trapped beneath a fallen beam. "Brandi, look there!"

Brandi studied the situation. The support had dropped right in the middle of him. If it slipped just a fraction more, he'd be cut in two. If he wasn't dead already, he was as good as dead she thought before replying, "I think it's too late for him, Skye! Leave him! We need to focus on rescuing survivors!"

Skye checked him for CPU activity, "He's still alive, Brandi! You go on ahead, I'm going to get him out!"

"Yeah right, so you can tell everybody I left an alive guy to die," Brandi came to her friend and the racer's sides. "I'll wedge something under the beam so it won't fall any further."

The TrailBlazer pushed a big, metal dumpster beneath the girder's base.

Suddenly, out of the smoke came a desperate plea, "Is anyone there?! Someone, help me please!"

Without a second thought, Brandi charged through the hazy, gray abyss, following the direction in which she heard the cry. Unexpectedly, a pair of hazel eyes and buck teeth were in her face!

"I'm here! Are you injured?!" Brandi asked, doing her best to sound calm even though she'd stumbled backwards when she saw him.

"Oh, thank goodness!" A rusty tow truck replied, "Not me, it's my friend! He's trapped! Please save him!"

"Take me to him!"

The truck led her swiftly through the path he'd used to get from the collapsed West wing. This annex was used to store tires, old and new. The burning of rubber had the whole area filled with black smoke.

"We won't be able to see anything in this smoke. Stick close to me," said Brandi. "What's your friend's name?!"

Mater pressed his side to the firefighter's, "McQueen! Lightnin' McQueen!"

As they slowly made their way through, Brandi shouted to be heard over the roar of the flames, "Mr. McQueen! If you can hear me I need you to reply!"

"Lightnin', buddy! Where are ya?!"

"Mater?! Is that you?!" A voice answered in the darkness. "I'm over here!"

Brandi followed his voice to a garage bay sealed by a fallen slab of concrete that had broken into big uneven pieces. When the backdraft caused the smoke to change direction and subside a bit, she could see the racecar's blue, frightened eyes peering through the rubble at her, "Mr. McQueen, are you injured at all?!"

"No, no, I'm just trapped! Please hurry and get me out of here!"

"Don't worry, sir, I'll get you out, but I need you to back up as much as you can!" Brandi pressed her fender to a jagged cement block and shoved, it's sharp ends scraping up her paintwork. It didn't budge. "They're too heavy! I can't move them! But I have an idea." Returning to Mater she asked, "Sir, may I borrow your tow cable?"

"Sure!" He responded backing up so the firefighter could secure the cable around the debris.

"Now drive! Pull as hard as you can!"

Mater did as instructed; pulling for a long while until his strength gave out and he broke into a fit of coughing.

"Sir, you've inhaled too much smoke already! You need to leave before you stall or pass out!" Brandi advised.

"No! I won't leave my best friend behind!" Mater refused.

"Mater, go! Save yourself!" Lightning insisted.

"No, buddy, I won't leave ya!"

"You have to! Please, I need you to tell Sally I love her and look after her for me," Lightning smiled at his friend through the little gaps in the pile.

Mater looked back, eyes teary, "… Okay …"

"Just follow the same path we came in to go out. I'm gonna stay here and do what I can for your friend," the TrailBlazer said to the tow truck.

After Mater was gone Brandi found a tire iron and wedged it between the concrete chunks, prying again and again. A section slipped and the pieces fell only to settle more firmly in place!

"No!" She screamed in frustration, backing up and ramming into the debris. She cracked her grille but the pieces didn't budge again. What more could she do? What more should she do? Having only been a firefighter for about two years, her career was short and unimpressive. She only had about 15 rescues under her fan belt and this was her first big fire, but she took pride in her flawless extraction record. The victim may not have always pulled through in the end but she did ALWAYS manage to get them out of harm's way. That was her strength, her special ability, her whole reason for being, or so she thought, but now up against a real fire she had failed. Maybe Roush, Gene, Sarah, and every other car she'd ever met were all right; maybe there really wasn't anything special about her at all. Nothing but a slow, lowly sports utility vehicle, she'd probably be better off dying in the fire with McQueen. She wasn't going to leave him and ruin her record that was for sure. Distraught, Brandi pulled back to where she and Lightning could see each other.

Her face had lost all hope and a tear fell from her earnest green eyes as they met his, "I'm sorry, sir. I wish I could get you out but … I'm just not strong enough…"

Lightning sighed, coming to peace with his fate, "It's alright, miss, you don't have to cry. I'm okay with it now."

For a long time, Brandi parked there, unwilling to leave him, and closed her eyes to think. Maybe the smoke and fire would overtake her as she sat and she patiently waited for her life to pass before her eyes, but the visions never came. How rude! Even in death her life mocked her, but it was undoubtedly for the best. A recap of _her_ lifespan probably would've been depressing to watch anyhow. One memory in particular did grace her final moments; she recalled her favorite show and wondered what Naruto would do in her situation. If only the shadow clone jutsu was real. Her engine had taken in a lot of smoke now and her mind was hazy as she recalled what Skye told her about real-life shadow clones.

"What the fuck are you doing just sitting there?! You know this place is on fire right?!" A familiar voiced admonished.

The TrailBlazer opened her eyes to stare directly into the green eyes of another red TrailBlazer, but not just any TrailBlazer, it was her!

"The heat must be getting to me," Brandi said in a daze.

"Yeah, yeah. Get your ass up!" Said her twin, pushing her to get her moving. "We need to get out of here NOW!"

"I can't leave Mr. McQueen."

"We're not, but you're sure as hell not gonna save him sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. Now let's push this concrete out of the way!"

"I can't…"

"What?!" The clone asked in disbelief, "Your life is on the line and you're giving up? If you had thought like that, you'd have been scattered across the country by that F5 a few years ago. I thought Bombshell and Naruto taught you to never give up! Now get up and try again! I'll help you!"

Groggy but with new resolve, Brandi leaned back against the concrete and called out to Lightning, "Sir?! Mr. McQueen, are you still with me?!"

His voice was weak, "I'm … here…"

"I need you to back up as much as you can one more time! I'm going to get you out of there or die trying! Believe it!" She then turned to her double, "I know you're a figment of my delusional mind but you better get over here and help me push!"

"You got it!" The copy replied.

Brandi forced her fender against the cement block again as hard as she could. Its serrated edges gouged deep into her sheet metal.

"So … heavy!" She yelled against the pain.

"No it's not! This pebble is nothing for a big, strong SUV like you! Now let's save this poor, helpless, weak, scrawny, insignificant little car!" Her twin cheered.

"It's starting … to move! Ahh!" The chunk was slowly moving and forcing Brandi to groan in discomfort as it continually cut into her.

"Are you alright?!" Lightning asked at the sound of her cry.

"I'll be okay! Just … a little … bit more!"

Dust and rocks fell onto her roof, a telltale sign that if she moved this one piece it might all come down, but Brandi was decided. She was getting McQueen out even if she buried herself in the process, "Get ready! You're going to have to make a run for it!"

The concrete slipped loose, sending Brandi falling forward as the whole pile came crumbling down beside her.

McQueen shot through an opening in the tumbling debris, "I made it out! You did it! I'm free! Ahh!"

A huge piece of the ceiling fell between the two vehicles almost crushing them both!

"Don't start celebrating yet! Hurry, follow me out of here!" Brandi made a dash for the way they came in, but beams and more rubble plummeted to block the path. A bit of sunlight was shining in from where the back wall had broken away and she pushed the racecar through the opening to the fresh air outside. She looked up as the whole remainder of the roof gave way before squeezing through hole herself, just in time! It took a few long moments afterwards to sink in that she wasn't dead.

"Are you okay, Miss?!" Lightning asked, his voice gradually becoming louder and clearer as Brandi returned to reality.

"Yeah… let's get you checked out," she said as she escorted him around the building to the East parking lot where her team and ambulances were waiting.

The fire was mostly all gone but the smoldering building still smoked furiously. The other three fire engines had arrived. The one called Joe was still watering the smoking ashes of the Sonoma Indoor Speedway, while the exhausted Ed rested. Next to him was the anxious tow truck.

"McQueen, yer safe!" Mater cried as he nuzzled his friend, overjoyed.

The racecar and his companion were loaded into ambulances and hauled to the nearest hospital.

"Brandi! I'm so glad you made it out!" Sighed Ed in relief.

"Me too," Brandi smiled. "So, that's how the fire got put out so quickly; Emma, Joe, and Alice finally showed up."

Ed's voice was low and resigned, "Yeah, they came as soon as they heard. Oh, you're hurt! Let me treat your wounds."

"Thanks." Once treated and still high on adrenaline, the TrailBlazer drove over to the rest of her team to congratulate them, "We did it! We finally got a real fire and we kicked its ash!"

No one returned her enthusiasm. Eugene and Roush's eyes were downcast. Emma and Alice sobbed uncontrollably.

Brandi was confused," So, why does everyone look so down? Why are Emma and Alice crying?" She looked around the parking lot of vehicles for a certain face that was strangely absent, "Where's Skye?"

Being the leader, Roush slowly rolled forward to answer her questions, "It seems … the section where Skye was … collapsed and … she and the racer she was trying to save were crushed. They were the only casualties. I'm so sorry, Brandi."

All the sound around her faded away and the only thing she could hear was her own breathing, which was becoming increasingly more erratic.

"Brandi? Brandi, are you okay?" Eugene asked, recognizing the brewing panic attack and shaking her gently.

"This is all your fault!" She exploded in unbridled fury, "If you weren't such a fucking coward, Skye would've been outside and safe!"

Roush quickly moved to block the SUV from attacking his friend, "Brandi, calm down! It's not Gene's fault!"

"You're right, it's yours! If you hadn't sent all the other fire engines away we could've put the fire out faster!"

"Brandi, stop it! It's no one's fault! I'm sorry, but sometimes bad things happen … and it sucks! You think you're the only one upset that Skye is gone?! She was a valuable part of our team and we're ALL gonna miss her!" He yelled back in an attempt to use his authority to intimidate her into calming down. "Now go home. Get healed up, grieve, and get some rest. Get a whole week's worth of rest and feel better."

The only thing keeping her from breaking down right there in the parking lot was the fact that she loathed for others to see her cry. In a numb, zombie-esque trance she stumbled home, fighting every mile to keep her anguish hidden beneath the surface.


	2. Chapter 2

Five weeks later.

Brandi's sleep was abruptly interrupted by the phone. Her waterlogged eyes gave it a glance but she made no effort to answer the call. It stopped just before the answering machine could react and a moment later started again. Stopped. Started again and this time the machine was allowed to pick up. The SUV could hear the message as it was recorded, "Brandi, this is Roush… it's been over a month. Where are you? I know you and Skye were close but … I'm gonna have to let you go. I'm sorry."

The words hardly reached the despondent Trailblazer as she sat there, motionless like she'd done every day since the Sonoma Speedway fire. Suddenly, there was a brusque knock on her garage door, followed by a deep commanding voice, "Ma'am, this is Officer Camber of the Sonoma City Police Department and I'm here with your landlord; Mrs. Wong. We know you're in there." He paused for Brandi's response but at her silence he continued. "Miss Phalle was an upstanding and courageous firefighter. In respect of our departed service member will you come speak with us please?"

She didn't want to, but the memories the officer stirred as he spoke of her friend propelled her forward through her neglected garage and her modest furnishings caked with weeks worth of dust. Reluctantly, she motored past the now empty parking space where Skye's certifications and awards hung, also covered in dust, along with her spotless diploma and newly placed license plates. When Brandi finally reached the main garage door to her apartment she had to stop and catch her breath. It that short drive, she'd relieved their entire friendship and hot tears were now streaming down her fenders. She couldn't bear to let the two cars outside see her weep and thereby made every effort to neutralize her depression before finally opening the door.

"What?" She asked at last, now face to face with the cop and the bitter little Honda.

"First of all, thank you, for your service and your cooperation. Next … well … I have to serve you this eviction noti-"

"You punk kids always delinquent on rent! No respect for business!" Interrupted Mrs. Wong. "So reckless! You play with fire like dead girl. Lucky you no burn my apartments!"

At the smearing of her friend's name, Brandi was instantly defensive, "No! You're wrong!"

The officer quickly moved between the two females to keep the younger and larger Brandi from striking the small, angry car.

From safely behind Officer Camber, the Honda continued the verbal stoning, "Yea, I'm Wong and you evicted, you no-good kid! That 'Mrs.' Wong to you! No respect!"

Furious, she stormed from the garage and off the property, tires screeching as she peeled out down the road. It felt like an eternity but eventually she did calm down and her sorrow forced her to wander the bustling city streets aimlessly. When she finally stopped and looked around to see where her tires had dragged her she gazed up in horror at the newly rebuilt Sonoma Motor Speedway, looking pristine and untouched as though the worst day of her life hadn't occurred here just four short weeks ago. Had the whole world forgotten and moved on with nary a thought about the two- no, three, lives shattered here? As she moved closer to the now-restored East entrance that her team had used to access the fiery tomb that the indoor racetrack became that day she noticed something _was_ different. Upon the wall was a small plaque, shiny and new, that in brilliant gilded letters read;

In Memory of

Chris Treadmore 1978 – 2012

Beloved husband and passionate racer

Skye Phalle 1989 – 2012

Valiant firefighter and loyal friend

Unexpectedly, the world around her was silenced and burned away. Ash rained down from up above and all she could see through the billowing smoke was … herself … with Skye and the unresponsive racer, Chris.

"Leave him!" The doppelganger in her vision cried. "We need to focus on rescuing survivors!"

"He's still alive, Brandi. You go on ahead! I'm gonna get him out!" Replied Skye again.

"Is anybody there?! Someone help me! Please!" Came the familiar cry that drew her from her friend's side that fateful day.

As Brandi watched herself leave, her knowledge of what was coming forced her to scream out in a desperate effort to call herself back, "NOOOOO! STOP!" However, the muted plea of her present self was swallowed up by the roaring flames of the past. Her tires, now melted by the hot concrete, glued her in place so that she couldn't move forward to help or even turn away from seeing. What she saw next though was no memory.

Skye pushed with all her might to try shove the beam from off the racecar by herself. It budged a bit, sending a boulder size chunk of concrete tumbling from up above. The Torrent dodged it just in time and coughed as the dust added to the thick smoke. She quickly put on her mask to refresh her engine with oxygen and resumed trying to dig the other vehicle out. The crash of the debris awakened Chris who was weak from smoke inhalation and the beam crushing down upon him.

"Ma'am…," his feeble voice was barely audible. "… it's too late for me. Go on and get outta here…"

"Sure thing. We're gonna get outta here together," she answered cheerfully as she pulled a saw from she and Brandi's shared tool case and began cutting the beam.

Unbeknownst to her, an entire concrete slab was slowly slipping above.

"Skye! Get out of there!" Brandi screamed, tears pouring down her fenders as she was forced to watch the scene.

"M-ma'am, look out-" the racer warned as his would-be savior moved to check on him, but it was too late. There was a deafening crash and when the dust settled this time. Skye laid there directly in front of him, with her entire back half crushed beneath the collapsed rubble. Her breathing apparatus had fallen from her fascia so he could see the dark, oily blood run from the corners of her mouth.

"Oh no…" he sighed, now oblivious to his own peril.

Just then, Skye coughed, lightly showering the racer in her blood.

"Sorry," she smiled good-naturedly when she realized it.

"You're sorry? I'm sorry this is happening to you," he confessed, a tear rolling down his fender before he erupted in a coughing fit himself.

Skye was close enough to him that she could push her mask into his mouth.

"Shhhh…," she soothed. "If this is to be the end, sir, then it is my pleasure to accompany you home."

Skye desperately fought off unconsciousness to keep from leaving him alone in their final moments and he could tell.

"Chris … Treadmore," he wheezed through the mask.

"Huh?" The SUV asked, his words bringing her back momentarily from the brink of death.

"That's … my name." Some pebbles plummeting upon his hood drew his gaze upwards to the last of the ceiling that was losing its fight with gravity.

Skye noticed too and called out to him, "Chris! Keep your eyes … on me … okay?!"

He looked back at her warm smile and grinned back, "When I get to the other side … who is the hero that … I should tell my friends … accompanied me home?"

"I'm… Skye Phalle … and Mr. Treadmore … I'll meet you there…"

Then the entire section came down but all Brandi could hear was her own shrieking.

"H-hey, lady! You okay?! Was'sa matter?!" Hollered a voice as its owner firmly shook her.

"W-where am I? What happened?" She inquired, confused as the world returned to normally around her. Then she saw who the good Samaritan was. "You?! What are you doing here?!"

"Welp, I heard ya screamin' jus' now so I came over to see if'n ya was bein' robbed, or murdered, or grand theft auto-ed … but you's look fine to me."

"I am … I am fine."

"Good. Tha name's Mater! Like tuh-mater, but without the 'tuh'."

She gave him a disbelieving look.

"Is you sure you's alright?"

"Yes, Mater, I'm fine. You can go now."

"No siree, ma'am! You won't tell me, but you was screamin' 'bout somethin' and it ain't safe for ladies to be out alone at night … even though it's actually daytime. Shoot, in a big city like this 'un it probably ain't too safe durin' th' day neither."

"Sonoma's not that big," she disputed.

"It's a lot bigger'n Radiator Springs I tell you what. Heck, Radiator Springs ain't got but one traffic light in tha whole town. Why, it reminds me of th' time my buddy, McQueen, first came to town. He come flyin' through there faster'n a F1 racecar on an airport runway at Christmastime. Sheriff was tryin' so hard to keep up wit that boy he was backfirin' real bad. McQueen told me he thought Sheriff was shootin' at 'im. I don't care who ya are, that's funny right there!" He stomped a tire and laughed before continuing, "Long story short, McQueen done got himself all tangled up an' wound up hangin' from that one traffic light smack dab in th' middle o' town. Tore up tha whole road in th' process! That's how I gots to meet him." At her blank stare, he asked, "So, where ya headed? I'll give ya a bona fide, gentleman-like Mater escort."

She couldn't fathom why but Brandi suddenly found herself breaking out in hysterical laughter.

"Whut's so funny?" Questioned the puzzled tow truck.

"You … you are just … a lot to try to take in in five minutes."

"Heh, that's whut she said …"

"Oh, I rolled right into that one," Brandi chortled, calming down. "I meant your personality."

Mater grinned wider at her reply, "I'm sorry. I know I ain't supposed to make jokes like that to ladies but I couldn't help it."

"No harm done. You have excellent comedic timing."

"Ya know, I can't quite place it but ya look familiar," Mater said at last.

At that, Brandi again became a torrent of emotion inside. He was there the day her world was torn apart and he didn't even remember! Part of her wanted to scream at him and dump all of her hatred on this loud, simple-minded, old fool. However, he was friendly and funny … and considerate. He was a gentleman, albeit, the kind to offer to drive you home and then make crude jokes the whole way. Furthermore, what happened to Skye wasn't his fault. Skye had told her to go ahead and help him. It was her duty—no, her pleasure to save Mater and his friend that day.

"In your story, you mentioned a McQueen… ," she began.

"Oh yeah, he's my best friend. Ya wanna meet him?!"

"Uh, I'm not so sure-"

"Ah, don't be shy. He's real nice. He don't let bein' all rich an' famous go to his head none either."

"Rich and famous?!" She gulped.

Mater pushed the reluctant Trailblazer inside the new speedway to where Team 95 was setup. As he approached, a Jeep, a VW Bus, a Fiat, and a forklift all turned to greet him.

"Hey, Sarge, Filmore, Luigi, and Guido!" Mater called.

"Mater, who's your friend?" Inquired Fillmore in the casual, drawn-out manner of a vehicle whose last bong hit was in now full effect.

"Aw, this is tha lady I jus' found screamin' hysterically in th' street outside."

"Heheh … I wasn't… ," chuckled Brandi nervously, consoled somewhat by the fact that her red paintjob concealed how embarrassed she was right now.

"… but she didn't tell me her name yet," Mater finished as he turned back to her. "Screamin' Lady, this is Team McQueen! That's Sarge an' Filmore; they's our fuel techs. That there's Luigi; our tire consultant, an' Guido there is tha fastest forklift to ever rotate a tire!"

Just then McQueen pulled off the racetrack and up to the tow truck, "Mater, where were you? Jeff Gorvette was here and I wanted to give you a formal introduction since you didn't really get to meet at the last World Grand Prix."

"Oh, I heard someone screamin' outside so I went to check it out. She's alright now and she was askin' 'bout ya so's I brought her in to meet ya."

Mater moved out the way to reveal the TrailBlazer.

"Oh my Dodge, it's you!" Gasped the racecar when he saw Brandi's bright green eyes. "Guys … this is the firefighter that saved my life a month ago! Brandi Smuthe, right?!"

"I knowed I seen her b'fore!" Exclaimed Mater as the other guys thanked her.

"Uh, yeah. You're … Lightning McQueen?! The famous racer?!" Brandi shouted, as shocked to see him as he was to see her.

McQueen chuckled, "What, you didn't know you saved THE Lightning McQueen? It was on every news channel, and in all the papers?"

"Well, it was a little hard to see you that night with all the smoke, and fire, and falling debris… Also, I haven't exactly been watching tv or reading papers lately," Brandi sighed.

"Yeah, you're probably too busy signing autographs and doing interviews. I can't believe it's really you! I heard they were giving you an award. I requested to be there to put it on you myself, but I was told they couldn't reach you. You HAVE to let me treat you to dinner!"

"It's just after noon."

"Lunch then … and then dinner afterwards! Oh, and breakfast tomorrow!" McQueen insisted.

"It's not that big a deal."

"You saved my life! The 'deal' doesn't get much bigger than that!"

Later, at The Siamese Runner, Team 95 had been led to a reserved place for large parties. Brandi was in absolute awe as she shifted into park at the luxurious crystal table.

"I've never been to this place before," she said breathlessly.

"Yeah? I hope you like it. I heard it's the most expensive restaurant in Sonoma," said McQueen.

"You don't have to do this."

"Nonsense. Order whatever you like."

"Me too, buddy?!" Mater asked eagerly.

"Sure, Mater, but you're picking up your own tab."

"Dang!"

As the rest of the team scanned their menus, Lightning was as energetic as a schoolboy as he stared at the firefighter, "So, did they give you the key to the city or anything?"

Brandi's answer was short, "No."

"How about a penthouse suite?"

The SUV huffed and looked away from him a moment before backing from the table, "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom."

"Absolutely," said Lightning as he watched her go. When his eyes met Mater's mischievous smirk, he sighed, "What?"

"Shoot! I ain't seen you this giddy since ya met Sally," the truck teased. "You's starstruck!"

"Oh, shut up. It's just really cool to get to meet her. She's so modest and stoic just like the first responders you always hear about saving people on the news, but this is the one that saved me."

As Brandi made her way towards the bathroom, there was a huge crowd of vehicles in her path. It was the most extravagant restaurant in town so she was sure there were many other famous racers from the track there too, but this was getting ridiculous. Then she heard someone in the crowd say, "Here comes the Mayor, he's going to give them the keys to the city."

She couldn't stop herself from looking too. A glistening smoky gray Chevy Avalanche, flanked by two burly jet-black GMC Yukons, approached two fire engine red cars. Even though it was packed and she was far away, Brandi could see Roush and Eugene as though they were the only three vehicles in the whole place. As if he could feel her burning gaze upon him, Eugene turned and saw her too. Her red paint and emerald eyes making the rest of the crowd appear to be grayscale.

His eyes grew misty as he squeaked, "Brandi … I …"

With a furious engine roar, Brandi accelerated straight for him, the other members of the crowd shrieking as they dove to get out of her way. She hit the tC head on, sending him hurtling backwards until he landed on a glass table and broke it! Following him, the TrailBlazer then reared up and slammed her heavy tires upon his hood repeatedly. All the guests and patrons began screaming and fleeing from the building at the sight whilst the media crews snapped and filmed on.

"Security!" Yelled a panicked Roush.

The Mayor's two bodyguards hastily escorted him outside. Then two black and white rent-a-cops shoved the infuriated Brandi away from the battered Eugene.

At the sounds of the screams and broken glass Team 95 was instantly curious.

"What's goin' on?" Asked Mater.

"Bar mitzvah?" Shrugged Sarge.

"Well, Brandi must stolen someone's tallit because the man is throwin' her out, man," observed Fillmore.

"What?!" Shouted Lightning, immediately heading for the pandemonium.

As he saw his friends start to leave, Luigi turned back to his server, "On-a second thought, can I get-a that motorhito to go-a?"

When Lightning made it outside of The Siamese Runner a third cop was placing a boot on Brandi's tire while the first two held her in place.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Is that really necessary?!" Questioned the baffled racecar, "What's going on here?!"

The third officer replied, "This … SUV … assaulted one of the Sonoma City Heroes!"

"This SUV _IS_ a Sonoma City Hero!"

"Not anymore!" Corrected Roush. "She was terminated. She doesn't work well with others."

"Terminated?" Echoed Lightning in disbelief.

"STOP!" Commanded Eugene from the restaurant's entrance.

The cop turned to him," Eugene, sir, would you like to press charges?"

"No!" He responded as he hobbled out on his bent axle, "Take that boot off her!"

The officers did as they were asked.

Eugene continued, tears overflowing and voice cracking as he made his way towards her, "Brandi, I'm sorry! I tried to go by your place to give you this but they told me you'd been evicted-"

Suddenly, one of the injured tC's CV joints gave out and he stumbled before reaching the TrailBlazer, tossing the gift box on his dented hood to the ground directly in front of her. When it landed, it opened to reveal Skye's postmortem Medal of Valor. Brandi let out a reflexive sob, then turned and peeled away to keep anyone from seeing her cry. She made it away from everyone at The Siamese Runner but before she could hit the main road Lightning McQueen screeched to a stop as he blocked her escape.

"Wow, you've got a pretty good acceleration time for an SUV," he said. "It took a little longer to catch you than I thought it would."

Brandi was already in tears, "Dammit! I can't even storm off upset because you're faster than me!"

"I'm sorry, but I am a racecar. Also, I don't want you to storm off upset."

"Why don't you all just go back to your penthouses and expensive dinners in Radiator Springs?!"

"We will … but … I want you to come with us…"

"Why do you care what happens to me?!"

"Because … it'd be pretty hard for me to concentrate on racing knowing my hero is fuel-less and alone on the streets!" Lightning was shocked by his idol's rage, but was even more so by his own stubborness. "So come on… there's obviously nothing for you here and I won't take 'no' for an answer."

The next evening, all of Radiator Springs was gathered as Mack pulled into town with Sarge, Fillmore, Luigi, and Guido in tow. The sun was beginning to set as the group congregated at the rear of the trailer to welcome their racing legend back home. When the door finally dropped open, a collective gasp escaped the crowd. Inside was Brandi, fast asleep and snoring.

"Where's Lightning?" Sally inquired.

"Oh, don't worry," answered Mack. "He and Mater are on their way."

Lightning was exhausted as he drove into town a few minutes later with Mater by his side.

"Whoo! Ya made it, buddy!" Mater cheered.

"Thank Dodge," McQueen puffed. "That was awful."

"Don't ya regularly drive 500 laps or more in them big races?"

"Yeah, but there every lap is money in the bank. This driving long distances just to get where you want to go … sucks." He and Mater shared a laugh.

"Still, it was mighty nice o' ya to let Brandi ride in yer trailer."

"She had a rough day yesterday, what else am I gonna do?"

"Stickers!" Sally shouted before zipping up and nuzzling her boyfriend affectionately.

"Sally, are you gonna call me that forever? I have real headlights now," he chuckled before flashing her with them.

"Ooh, I see."

The lovers kissed forcing Mater to clear his throat, "Ahem! Maybe I should leave you's two alone."

"So, Hun," Sally began. "Who's the girl in your trailer and why are you driving yourself home from a race?"

"Come on," he led her and Mater to where the others were still gathered around the trailer listening to Sarge, Fillmore, Luigi, and Guido's various perspectives of the mysterious girl still sleeping inside. "Everyone, as you may have heard now, this is Brandi. She's the firefighter that saved me last month at the Sonoma Speedway … which they've since rebuilt and it's really nice now. Anyway, she doesn't live in Sonoma anymore. Believe it or not, she doesn't live anywhere and I didn't think that was right. So, I invited her to live here with us and … I hope you all will help me make her feel welcome."

Murmurs of agreement arose from the townies before they dispersed to their homes as night fell.

Brandi awoke with a yawn, rolled from the trailer, then looked around to see where they were now, "So, when do we get to Radiator Springs? Um … where is this dump?"

"This 'dump' is Radiator Springs and this is the Cozy Cone Motel; my 'penthouse' you spoke of," Lightning answered.

Sally pulled up to her and lightly kissed Brandi's fender, "Thanks for saving my boyfriend. You'll stay in Cone #1 … and I'm gonna forget that you called Radiator Springs a dump, but don't let it happen again."

"Whoa, Sally, that was sexy… ," Brandi could hear McQueen say as the two cars retired to their shared sleeping space in the motel's main office.

O…kay," sighed the TrailBlazer as she rolled into her new room. "I didn't think there was a sleeping space smaller than our apartment, Skye, but I guess this isn't so bad. Night."


	3. Chapter 3

She had only just fallen asleep when she was awoken by the sounds of amore nearby.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me?" She cursed to herself before rolling from her cone and staring down the darkened main office.

She went up to the door and prepared to bang on it, but changed her mind. Sally was pretty scary … and Lightning had been so nice to her. She'd let him have his fun tonight and get him back tomorrow. Still, she'd never get back to sleep with that racket going on so she decided to take a stroll out on the town's main road. As her tires touched the asphalt she heard a strange sound.

"Pssst! Hey, Brandi, " came a voice from some bushes nearby.

"Mater?" She asked.

"Yea, it's me. Wha's wrong? Couldn't sleep?"

"Nah."

"I know exactly whut ya need? Le's do somethin' fun!"

"Like what?"

"Follow me."

Brandi grudgingly followed the tow truck to a field of sleeping tractors. She watched them low and snore for about two minutes before turning to head back.

"Golly, that was fun," she said, her words dripping sarcasm.

Mater caught her rear axle with his tow hook, "Get back here… we's ain't started yet. You stay here an' watch me."

He quietly snuck up in front of a tractor then suddenly honked his horn loudly. The creature let out a cry of dismay as it tumbled backwards. The fuel in its tank gurgled loudly before a sharp, flatulent burst escaped its exhaust pipe. Mater guffawed uproariously and Brandi stood there in wonder.

"Whoa! Why do they do that?" She queried, coming closer to investigate.

"That's jus' whut they's do," Mater shrugged. "You ain't spent much time 'round tractors, huh, city girl?"

"Can't say that I have. The last time I was around tractors, they were flying through the air."

"Whut?"

"Nothing. That's a story for later," she changed the subject. "Come on, do it again."

"Nope! This time it's yer turn. Do it jus' like I showed ya," instructed Mater.

"But I wasn't really paying attention when you did it."

The tow truck glared at her disappointedly, "Sonoma got a big school, do they?"

"Sonoma State? Yeah, I went there."

"They give out fancy college degrees?"

"Yeah."

"Ya got one?"

"Yes!"

"Then figure it out!" He ordered, moving further away. "Class is in session!"

Brandi let out an exasperated sigh then positioned herself in front of a slumbering tractor. She tried to honk as loud as she could but in her nervousness she barely squeaked.

"Louder," suggested Mater.

She tried again with the same result. Mater just shook his head in disapproval. Annoyed by Mater's teasing, Brandi mustered every ounce of torque she had and tried to shove the tractor over. The vehicle leaned but then rocked back and fell on top of her, pressing her undercarriage to the ground!

"Brandi!" Mater gasped, rushing over and pushing against the tractor's side. His voice strained with exertion, "That degree o' yers… ya might wanna give it back."

"Noted, now get this thing offa me!" She grumbled.

It took a bit, but together they were able to push the tractor off Brandi and onto its other side. Its tank gurgled and let out the humorous gas, which elicited worry-erasing laughter from both emergency vehicles.

"Phew! Ain't never seen anyone tip a tractor like that b'fore," jeered Mater.

"Yeah, that's the Chevrolet method, " Brandi snickered.

"Ya tired yet?"

"Not yet."

Mater pressed one of his fore tires to her fender, "How 'bout now?"

Brandi burst into laughter, "You're so corny! I can't take it!"

"I'm jus' joshin' ya. You was lookin' pretty down earlier."

"I am down … and it's gonna take a lot more than knocking over some tractors and some cheeseball jokes to cheer me up. I appreciate you trying though."

"Well, if'n ya still ain't tired, ya wanna hear 'bout when I was a firefighter?"

"You were a firefighter? Yeah, I've gotta hear this."

Mater enthralled Brandi with his tales until sunrise. Meanwhile, back at the Cozy Cone, Lightning and his girlfriend were just waking up.

"Ahh!" Yelped the racecar when he discovered Cone #1 was empty, "She's gone! Brandi's gone!"

"Relax, Hun," yawned Sally. "She probably went for an early morning drive."

"That would be fine except she just got here and doesn't know her way around yet. She's probably lost in the hills somewhere. I'm going to go find her."

Lightning took a big sigh of relief after he pulled onto Main Street, for there at the end, parked before Stanley's statue was Mater and Brandi still chatting contently.

"Mornin'," he smiled as he rolled up to them. "How'd you sleep?"

"I didn't," the TrailBlazer replied.

"Oh, yeah? Bad dreams?"

"No, you were just a little too noisy for me."

"I-I was?" Lightning stammered, growing uneasy. "Was I snoring?"

"Not unless you snore like 'Oh, Sally! Oh, Sally! Oh, Sa-"

Mortified, Lightning quickly revved his engine loudly to cut her off as he jumped in and pushed her away from the cackling Mater, "Ok, ok! I get it! Except I wasn't like that at all!"

"Hey!" She yelled as he shoved her further and further, "Where are we going?"

"Since you're gonna be living here now, I want to show you around. Come on."

"You's givin' her a tour now?! Wait fer me!" Mater rushed to catch up with them.

The trio arrived at Flo's V8 Café first.

"This is Flo's restaurant, " began McQueen but before he could say a sentence more, the show car and an Impala came out to greet them. "Oh, here's Flo now and this is her husband, Ramone."

"Hey there, Mamacita, I own the House of Body Art. It's right over there. Service members already get 10% off but for saving McQueen I'll give you your first service absolutely free. I can do practically whatever you want; knock out a dent, paint jobs, you name it, okay?" Smiled Ramone.

"Really? Thank you, sir," the stunned SUV responded.

"You hear that, baby?" Ramone turned to his wife. "She called me 'sir'. That's so cute. I feel, like, all important now and stuff."

"Come on and park over here, honey, so I can fill your tank with hot, home-cooked love," said Flo. "Whatcha in the mood for, Sweet Pea? It's on the house."

"As I've told Mr. McQueen, you guys don't have to do this. It's my job to save people," Brandi tried to explain.

"Honey, it's important to let your heroes know how much you appreciate what they do personally. The medals you may have received can't express my gratitude the way havin' you right here with me, drinkin' my fuel can."

"No, Flo, she's right; this breakfast is on me," said McQueen. "You can get the next one."

Brandi looked over the menu. Since the incident at The Siamese Runner happened before she'd gotten any fuel, it had been over a month since she filled her tank last. To be honest, she hadn't needed to. Being parked in her depression meant she didn't go anywhere. Why would she? It's not like she had anyone to go anywhere with anymore. She stared off into space on the verge of tears, but someone noticed.

"Ya should try this. It's my favorite," Mater winked at her after he'd looked at Brandi's menu.

She was instantly snapped from her daze and took his suggestion, "Oh, um, I guess I'll try this, ma'am."

"Coming right up … and 'Flo' is fine, darlin'," beamed the show car before leaving to start her order.

"Hey, you guys," called Ramone to Mater, Lightning, and Brandi. "Listen to this story on the radio."

At the same time, Sally pulled up to one of Flo's pumps.

"Just a sec, Ramone, I'll be back," McQueen said as he rolled over to the little blue coupe.

"Just a few gallons of my usual, Flo. I need to run up to Wheel Well later," Sally then addressed her boyfriend. "There's my hotrod. Last night was fun, right?"

"Ahem, uh, yeah … speaking of last night, um, don't you think the Cozy Cone's rooms are a little … small?" Lightning asked her.

"No, they're standard size and comfortably fit most cars, SUVs, and minivans. Why? Did Brandi say something?"

"No, … but she had some trouble sleeping last night."

"Aw, why?"

"Uh … um … s-she didn't say, but don't you think she might be more comfortable in one of the suites at Wheel Well? She deserves that much, right?" Stammered he racecar.

"Certainly, but Wheel Well is a bit of a drive from here," Sally said. "You sounded like you wanted her to be close by so she could really be part of the town."

"You're right; it's a dumb idea."

"Lightning, it's a sweet gesture. We'll both show her Wheel Well and then she can decide where she'd rather be."

Meanwhile, the tow truck, Impala, and the TrailBlazer all pulled around Ramone's old-school boom box as a news story broke, "The string of catastrophic fires continue across Europe as costs and casualties steadily rise. The list of suspects grows longer and longer leading police to believe that an illicit organization may be behind these tragedies. This distinct possibility leaves police on edge as the majority of Europe's various law enforcement departments aren't equipped, or even trained, to stand up to some of the more powerful crime syndicates."

"The situation is getting worse over there. I hope they catch the guys responsible and put an end to this before the World Grand Prix, man," Ramone said.

"I ain't worried," Mater declared. "Finn and my gurl; Holley, is probably closin' in on them bad guys right now. Why it reminds me o' th' time I was a detective in charge of solvin' a huge counterfeit tire operation."

"Oh, brother. Here we go again," sighed Ramone as Brandi listened intently.

After breakfast, McQueen and Mater showed Brandi the Casa Della Tires, Lizzie's Curio Shop, and the Hudson Hornet Museum with the tow truck managing to spin in a tall tale at each stop. The day was growing late so the trio rendezvous with Sally and headed up through the hills to Wheel Well.

"And this … is Wheel Well," said Lightning as they approached the entrance. "It's our biggest tourist attraction. Well, next to Doc's Museum … and me. I was thinking you might enjoy one of these rooms more. It'd be quieter."

"You mean _you'd_ be quieter," quipped Brandi. "There's no way I'd hear you two way out here."

"What does she mean by that?" Asked Sally.

"Nothing! She's silly," replied Lightning anxiously.

"If it's all the same with you, I'd like to stay at the Cozy Cone a bit longer, Mr. McQueen. I'm sure I won't have trouble sleeping anymore," Brandi said.

Before McQueen could respond his girlfriend escorted the SUV into the motel, beaming, "Great! Lightning and I are really enjoying having you around. Still, let me show you the inside."

The first level of Wheel Well had been renovated into an elegant restaurant. A ramp spiraled upwards along the wall of the motel's interior, leading to two more levels, each holding about ten suites. The rooms of the second level were large enough to accommodate two vehicles while the chambers of the third could comfortably sleep four.

"This is nice," Brandi smiled, almost wondering if the little blue car would threaten her again if she said anything less.

"Thank you, but I'm glad you'll be with us in town," replied Sally. "I'd worry about you out here by yourself."

Brandi couldn't help but give Sally an uneasy glance. A Porsche would 'worry' about her. Really? It was almost laughable.

After the tour of the grand Wheel Well Motel and the subsequent long drive back to town, night had fallen. Mater returned to his junkyard and turned in and Brandi followed McQueen and Sally back to her place at The Cozy Cone. After staying up all night the evening before and the flood of new places, names, and faces she encountered today, she could sleep soundly even Lightning and Sally were at it in the same room. That last thought made her chuckle as she drifted off.

That night, it was hot. So unreasonably hot. Brandi opened her eyes to discover she was surrounded by fire! The flames licking her sides caused her paint to bubble and peel. Despite the searing agony she found herself unable to move, held captive by the tragedy unfolding before her. The scene was nothing new, the cast all familiar faces, and the ending always the same. Yet, the pain never diminished and the wounds on her soul were as if they'd been ripped anew.

When she didn't leave her room the next morning, the concerned populace of Radiator Springs gathered around her still form. They were a bit disturbed by her strange trance because her eyes were open and tears would occasionally roll down her fascia as she stared helplessly into the horizon.

"Brandi, wake up. Can you hear me?" Lightning asked softly, nudging her a bit.

Suddenly, her rear wheels began to spin and screech as the rubber started to burn.

"Everyone look out!" Warned McQueen.

Brandi shifted into drive, peeling out in a cloud of smoke and the townsfolk all sped to get out of her path as quickly as their transmissions would allow! In her deranged flight she clipped a high curb during a sharp turn, lost her balance, and rolled onto her roof before skidding to a stop. Everyone quickly came to check on her but she was still out of it; a distant, paralyzed look in her eyes and her tires spinning aimlessly in the air.

"Well, at least she can't move now," said Mater.

Sally sighed, "I sure wish, Doc was here to help her."

"Doc? She doesn't need a doctor! She needs an exorcism!" Argued Sarge.

Just then, her engine began to smoke.

"She's overheating! W-what should we do?" Panicked Lightning.

Red, the town's fire engine, charged forward, lights flashing, and used his fire hose to drench the TrailBlazer until her engine shut off and her wheels stopped turning. She finally awoke.

"What's going on?!" She sputtered as she coughed up water. "Why am I upside down … and soaked?"

"Thank goodness you're awake!" Sighed the relieved racecar.

"You musta been havin' the mother of all nightmares, man," Fillmore said.

"Yeah, that-a was scar-y!" Added Luigi.

"Told ya. Exorcism," grunted the Army jeep.

"Are ya alright, honey?" Cooed Flo.

"I think so, but, uh, could you guys flip me over or something? I'm feeling kinda exposed here," Brandi answered.

Mater laughed as he, Lightning, and Red helped to right the SUV.

"Whaddya think we are? A bunch of hormonal teenagers?" Jeered Sarge gruffly.

"Yeah, all of our peepin' days are long over, man, but I for one appreciate your interest in our interest," teased the old Volkswagon.

Brandi landed back on her tires with a heavy thud, "Thanks."

"I wish we had a doctor to look you over," said Lightning. "I can get Mack to give you a lift to the next town."

"Nah!" Interjected Mater, using his hook to grab Brandi's front axle and pull her along, "I knows plenty about engines an' parts. I can take a look. Let's jus' step in tuh my office." He set her down within his junkyard then turned to face her. "Hood please?"

She reluctantly popped her hood and let Mater look inside as Lightning followed them into the junkyard.

"Welp, I don't see nuthin' that looks like it could be trouble. Ya should probably take it easy till your engine dries out though."

"Thanks, Mater," said Lightning before addressing Brandi. "So, what was that all about? What happened? Are you okay?"

She stayed quiet and didn't look at him.

"Okay… I guess you're tired … or something. Come on, Mater, let's let her rest a bit."

"You go 'head, buddy, I'll catch up in a minute," Mater replied. After McQueen was gone he spoke to the TrailBlazer, "Ya may be jus' fine on tha outside but you's hurtin' on tha inside. Ya ain't gotta tell me what's wrong but I'm sure you'll feel a heck of a lot better if ya tell someone. McQueen's jus' tryna help ya is all. Shoot, we all is. Anyway, I'll check on ya later."

The tow truck turned to leave just as Brandi broke her silence, "You've been telling me a lot of stories lately, Mater. Can I tell you one?"

"Yeah! Of course!" He declared, swiftly coming back to her side. "Is this the one 'bout the flyin' tractors?!"

"No, this story is about a girl who lives in a town with her best friend in the whole world, kinda like you and McQueen here in Radiator Springs. This town isn't as nice as here though. There's a lot of unwritten rules that shape the way things are there."

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Well, … a tow truck like you or an SUV like me wouldn't really be allowed to hang out with a fast car like McQueen. If the three of us had the same job, you and I would get paid much less money than him for the same work and we'd get lousy service everywhere we went just because we're built for things other than speed."

"That sounds awful."

"Yeah, well, this girl is used to it. Her best friend is there and they help each other carry on when the world is beating them down. However … one day … her friend is taken from her."

"She gets car-napped?!" He inquired with a gasp.

"She dies, Mater. Now suddenly all the world's sticks and stones are high caliber rounds and when they aren't exploding on contact, they're piercing clean through the girl's sheet metal and tearing her apart. She isn't sure how she's gonna make it anymore."

"Dadgum… that is a sad story. No fair, I ain't never told you no sad story like that one."

"Sorry, I should've warned you," She admitted.

"That girl ain't you is it?"

The TrailBlazer gave him a unhappy nod.

"Dadgum!" Mater exclaimed, "It sounds like we done rescued you from that place just in th' nick of time! Don't you worry, Radiator Springs ain't like that at all! It don't matter if you's a car, a boat, a plane, or how fast ya can go here, we's all treat each other with respect."

"I hope you'll forgive my doubting"

"You'll see. This place is jus' whut ya need. Don't tell nobody but when McQueen first came here, he didn't have a single friend. Now look at him; he's one of our town's legacies … and you saved 'im. That makes you a star here already too."

Deep in thought, Brandi sketched apprehensive circles in the dirt with a fore tire as she contemplated his words.

Mater continued, "Shoot! Even Miss Sally was sad and lonely b'fore comin' here. A lot of us was. So, you's ain't as alone as ya think. That's why we's all come runnin' when ya was all possessed this mornin'."

"Possessed?" Brandi looked to him for an explanation, tire still scuffling about in the soil.

"Yeah, that's what Sarge said ya was. I tell ya what, watchin' you this mornin' was scarier'n comin' up on Th' Screamin' Banshee, Th' Ghostlight, an' my crazy Aunt Betsy at th' same time. My check engine light still ain't gone out yet!"

"Aww, man! You're telling me everyone thinks I'm some kind of hellion now?"

"Heheh … I need to take off now, but I wouldn't worry 'bout anyone thinkin' that. We's a pretty chill bunch. Jus' go out an' talk to ev'ryone. Oh, an' ya might wanna stop drawin' them Satanic symbols in th' sand there," Mater teased.

At his pestering she instantly stopped her restless tire shuffling and grinned, "Later, Mater."


	4. Chapter 4

**I must really love you guys. 2 story updates in one day! Man, I'm tired ... heh, get it? "Tired" like a car's ... eh, forget it. I'm going to bed. Happy birthday, America! Don't wake me until the 6th.**

* * *

The tow truck laughed aloud as he departed the TrailBlazer's company. He'd only gone a few yards up the road when McQueen startled him, "Mater!"

"Ah! Oh, it's jus' you, Lightnin'. Heheh, I knew that," Mater chuckled.

"That was the longest 'minute' I've ever waited," criticized Lightning as they strolled together up the road. "So how is she?"

"Sorry," Mater apologized. "We got to talkin' an' she's a little down 'cause she thinks we think she's a demon come to deliver our souls to th' Devil."

"Did she actually say that or are you just putting words in her mouth?"

"Heheh, ya know me, buddy, I likes to 'enhance' th' truth sometimes."

"You mean 'exaggerate'."

"Right. Anyways, she told me this real sad story. Her engine's gonna be jus' fine but th' cars in that place she come from must'a been pretty mean. They's throwin' stones on account o' her bein' an SUV an' her soul's so full of dents 'n' dings I'm surprised she talks to any of us."

"Well, she doesn't talk to me," Lightning clarified. "I could tell she's a little on the shy side, that's why I was trying to be extra nice, y'know, to build her confidence. Still, Brandi doesn't seem to trust me like she does you."

"It's the craziest thing I ever heard but … I think it might be 'cause you's a car. Ya ever hear o' cars treatin' non-cars like that b'fore? Questioned a skeptical Mater.

Lightning suddenly looked away, "Uh, well, even though I'm a famous racecar … I don't really know too many 'non-cars' outside of Radiator Springs, so I haven't really noticed any vehicle-type bias personally … but I may have heard talk of such a thing in some of the larger cities."

"Yeah, well since she lost her best friend it's been botherin' her real bad. She feels like th' world's against her an' she's all alone."

"She told you that?! That's … really rough. I thought I'd made it pretty clear that I'm on her side but I should apologize to her anyway. I don't want any societal prejudices making her uncomfortable around me."

In the meantime, Brandi was trying to take Mater's advice and get to know the folks of Radiator Springs. She wasn't sure what good it would really do. They were all so much older than her. Even Lightning and Sally had at least 10 years on her and surely that meant that they would have nothing in common, right? Well, Mater certainly seemed fun and lively for his age. When she pulled into the lot of Flo's V8 café, Sarge, Fillmore, Luigi, and Guido were already there. She half expected them to stare at her or question her endlessly about her eccentric behavior before, so she stopped at the pumps.

"Mornin', Soldier," greeted the Jeep.

"Hey, Brandi," Fillmore droned.

"Buongiorno, Ms. Brandi!" Beamed the little Fiat.

"Si, si, boungiorno," Guido nodded.

The show car came out and, with a warm smile, demanded, "Come on up here, Sweet Pea, and tell me what you want."

"Oh, yes ma'am," The young SUV did as she was instructed and came up to join the group. "Thank you all for being so nice to me. I'm sorry about earlier and I'm glad I didn't hurt anyone-"

"Don't you worry about that, Little Lady. Everyone breaks down sometimes," the VW bus reassured her.

"Yeah, Mamacita, don't worry, " added Ramone.

Brandi chuckled softly at the pet names, "Sweet Pea? Mamacita? Little Lady? You guys are talking to me like I was manufactured yesterday. I'm not a little kid."

"Oh yeah? What year are you?" Inquired Fillmore.

"2002."

They all looked at one another before erupting in raucous laughter.

"1960" he continued.

"Heh, I can beat that. 1959," the Impala grinned.

"Guido and I are vintage 1959 as well," Luigi proudly declared.

"1957," said Flo smugly.

Then everyone turned to look at the Jeep.

"I could tell you my year … but then I'd have to kill you," he teased. "That information's classified. However, the point is as long as you're our junior, you're a kid to us."

Brandi shook her head and smiled, "Okay, I get it."

Just then Lightning drove up.

"Morning everyone. I hope you won't mind if I borrow the newbie for a few minutes," he said as he pulled around in front of her nonchalantly and then led her away in one smooth, continuous motion."

"Like we got a choice," Flo smirked.

Guido let out a wolf whistle as the pair rolled from the lot and the others laughed heartily.

"Real mature, guys! Thanks!" Scolded Lightning. He led Brandi to the lot of the long since abandoned Wimpy's Wipers. Once they were alone, he continued, "I really want to say I'm sorry to you."

"Ok, for what?" She asked, a bit confused.

"For … being ignorant I guess. It's obvious to everyone here that you should be treated like a hero, but it just dawned on me that things might've been a little different for you back in Sonoma. Also, I'm sure you've had a lot of other things weighing on you lately. I'm sorry about Skye."

"How do you know about-"

"You think you're the only one who noticed that plaque?" Said Lightning. "I didn't get a chance to meet her but if she's the vehicle that inspires you, I'm sure she was great. I know what it's like to lose someone important to you. That doctor we didn't have to check you out earlier … that's who we lost. He was my mentor. He made me the racer I am today."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks. You know, grieving is a necessary part of healing… but having friends around that you can turn to can be the difference between moving on or letting it consume you. We all want to be your friends here, but this whole time ... I guess ... I've been trying to buy your friendship. That's not ever gonna to work, is it?"

Brandi looked away and said nothing.

The racecar moved so he was back in her field of vision and sighed, "Please don't push us away just because we're cars. The vehicles here are nothing like the bigoted ones you'd find in bigger towns."

"I'm not pushing _them_ away. You're right; they're good people and there's nothing big city left about them," Brandi sighed as she turned and rolled away from the racecar. "You're really nice too, Mr. McQueen, but you and I are from the same world … even though we might've lived on opposite sides of the tracks. You're more familiar with partiality than you let on. Isn't that right, superstar?"

With that she left him and headed back to the V8 Café. Lightning had never been called that with such sarcasm before. He found it odd and unsettling that his rescuer was repulsed by his fame. He'd encountered envy before but this wasn't it.

A whole month passed and Brandi still hadn't quite found her niche in the town. Radiator Springs already had a firefighter and with so little activity going on Red really didn't need any assistance, but none-the-less he enjoyed having her help with his plants. Everyone got a kick out of her infrequent attempts to be a server at Flo's because her reserved and overly polite nature with the older vehicles made her quite awkward at it. Helping Lizzie was a pain because she couldn't hear anything Brandi said which made actual conversation impossible and even though the SUV would've been happy to work in silence, Lizzie was very talkative. The Casa Della Tires was fully staffed with two workers so she mostly acted as a practice dummy for Guido's pit stops. They'd sometimes let her test new tires when they came in too. She helped to keep the lots of The Cozy Cone and Sarge's Surplus Hut clean a lot of the time too, which she enjoyed the most when Sarge and Sally weren't actually there to ask her personal questions. Lastly, when Fillmore would make a new batch of organic fuel he would occasionally ask her to taste it second.

"So what do you think, Little Lady?" The bus requested excitedly as she tasted his latest concoction.

"I think you've done it again. It's good. What are you gonna call it?" She replied.

"I'm thinkin' … Wind Spirit…"

"Don't make her drink that stuff!" Barked Sarge suddenly from his yard next door. "Brandi, you're excused from duty today. I can't have you working around my munitions with illegal substances in your system."

"Be cool, man! This isn't that one."

"That 'one'! Don't act like all of your freak juice doesn't have your 'secret ingredient' in it!"

"Not this one, man. I made this one especially for the kid!"

Brandi took a step back. The other townsfolk had warned her about trying to break up Sarge and Fillmore's daily squabbles. It was best to just let it fizzle out on it's own. From somewhere in the jungle that was Fillmore's yard she heard a familiar sound.

"Pssst! Hey Brandi," Mater called, peeking out from the tall grass. "Let's go."

She rolled away from the bickering neighbors and over to the tow truck, "Go? Go where?"

He escorted her out to Willys Butte where McQueen was waiting with Luigi and Guido, "Lightnin' was thinkin' ya could use a break an' that ya might like to watch him train."

"Heh … yeah alright. I'll watch," she said as she shifted into park beside the track.

Luigi waved the flag and Lightning took off, the roar of his powerful engine rattling the very air.

He completed a lap with one of his fastest times yet and returned to his audience for praise, "Not bad, huh guys?"

"Bravissimo, Lightning!" Applauded the Fiat.

"Whoo whee, buddy! You was bookin'! Mr. San Francisco is sure gonna be in for a surprise at this year's World Gran' Prix!" Cheered Mater.

A disinterested Brandi kicked a rock with her tire.

Lightning was a little annoyed, "Does my racing bore you, 'Sweet Pea'?"

"Not at all, Mr. McQueen," she yawned.

"That's it. Come race me."

"Why?! If you're trying to embarrass me by smoking me in front of our friends, that's really unnecessary. It doesn't take a college degree to figure out that you're faster than I am."

"This is a race for fun. I won't even go full speed."

Now Brandi was annoyed, "That would be even more humiliating!"

"Are you scared?" He goaded.

"I'm a firefighter. I'm not scared of anything. I'll race you, but ... I get to set the rules."

"Sure, sure. Whatever."

"To be honest, racing in a circle is a little boring," Brandi stated before driving away from the sacred dirt track. "There's a lot of natural obstacles out here to be appreciated like that densely packed ditch of cacti over there. Or these dunes … and that little mesa."

Lightning frowned, "You can't race on cacti, dunes, and mesas."

"I'm sorry Mr. McQueen, I was under the impression that you were a professional. You can drift, you can jump, and you can drive backwards, right? So what's the problem?" Prodded the SUV. "Let's use that big dune to get up on the mesa over there. Then, we'll trick off that, stick the landing, and drift a full circle around that boulder. Then 180 and slalom backwards through that row of tall cacti. Lastly, we jump the cacti patch in the trench. Fastest time wins."

Lightning was perplexed, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! 'Trick off that'? What does that even mean?!"

"You jump, but you have to do something fancy. Like spin or whatever."

"Then you want to slalom through the cactus? Backwards?! Doesn't that mean we'd be backwards too when we jump the ditch … that's also full of cacti?!"

"Are you scared?" She baited him.

"Of course not! Like you said, I can drift, jump, and drive backwards."

Lightning approached the new makeshift starting line. When Luigi waved the flag, he peeled out for the ramp-like dune. Lining himself up and accelerating, he easily achieved enough air to clear the distance between the end of the dune and the mini mesa's top. In fact it was almost too much air! McQueen landed near the end of the mesa with no room left to execute his "trick". He thereby fell off and landed hard on his undercarriage.

"Ouch-a," grimaced Luigi.

"Ya alright, buddy?!" Mater hollered.

"Yeah … I'm fine," the racecar groaned, climbing to his tires shakily. Once stable, he sped for the boulder and drifted around, but with his high speed he found it difficult to stay in a neat ring as he circled the giant rock. He'd never had to keep his drifting so tight before. For most vehicles, being able to drift at all without spinning out was a feat of skill. He was slightly dizzy when he exited his roundabout so his 180 was more of a 270. Quickly correcting his course he drove backwards like Mater had taught him, picking up speed as he neared the line of razor-sharp cacti. He easily passed through the first two, but turned too late and collided bumper first with the third plant.

"Ahhhh!" He yelled in shock, shifting forwards to pry his rear from the spines.

"Ooh, that ain't good," commented the tow truck.

Brandi struggled to stifle her laughter.

Stubborn and determined as always, Lightning shifted back into reverse and, with a flat rear tire, hobbled slowly as he weaved through the remainder of the cacti.

"That speed is good for precision but it's not going to give you the momentum you'll need to make the final jump!" Coached the SUV.

Lightning grumbled to himself before backing full speed for the trench. Unfortunately, his timing was off. The ditch came much faster than he could anticipate while backwards and he drove right into the waiting sea of cacti.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The only thing louder than McQueen's scream of agony was Brandi's hysterical cackling.

To Lightning's displeasure, when Mater came to tow him from the prickly plants, he was laughing at well, "Et tu, Mater?"

"I'm sorry, buddy, you's jus' a master o' comedy," snorted the truck. "Besides, you said this was for fun, right?"

"Well, I'm glad we're all having so much 'fun' at my expense, but now it's time for me to have some 'fun'," Lightning winced at each step as he made his way over to the TrailBlazer on four flat tires. "Your turn!"

Brandi drove to the starting line. When flag waved she raced for the large dune, her speed barely half the racecar's.

"She won't even make the first jump. She's not moving fast enough," Lightning critiqued.

By compressing her suspension as much as she could, Brandi jumped at the dune's apex, sailed through the air and landed cleanly mid-mesa top. In a sideways skid towards the mesa's end, she attempted to try to stop but her greater weight continued propelling her forwards until her leading tires caught an edge and sent her rolling across the mesa's surface!

Suddenly, McQueen's haughtiness was gone, "Whoa! If she fails off like that, she could really get hurt!"

Luigi and Guido closed their eyes and awaited the sounds of a crash. Mater did the same but then quickly opened one again to see what would happen. It was a difficult thing to do; keeping your eyes open as you're rolling but it was the only way Brandi would get her timing right. Light, dark, light, dark, light, dark was all she could see as she continued rolling. She was getting dizzy but she had to focus. The townspeople would pity her for all time if she messed this up. Her tires passed beneath her one last time and she jumped. She twirled through the air now, her spinning slowing enough so that when she landed on her wheels, they actually stayed beneath her!

"What?!" Lightning exclaimed in awe, unable to comprehend what he'd just witnessed.

"Dadgum!" Shouted Mater excitedly, "That was cool!"

"Is it-a safe to look?" Queried the Fiat.

"Shoot yeah! Brandi come outta that death roll jus' fine! She's headin' to th' boulder now!"

Accelerating toward the rock, she let off the gas and slowed into drift so tight, her fender drew sparks as she circumnavigated the giant stone's far side. Switching back to the accelerator as she came around kept her drift close until she'd completed a full circle.

"Huh," Lightning huffed, surprised.

The tread of her non-racing tires sent plumes of dirt spewing into the air as she motored now for the row of cacti. Unlike Lightning however, Brandi didn't 180 until right before she weaved through the first pair of cacti, the force of her spin carrying her backend effortlessly through the gap. She was fully aware of her size disadvantage to the racecar and made sharp turns to keep her bigger body between the brutal barbs. Even so, they still clawed at her paint as she passed. When she exited the slalom, she reversed full speed for the cactus-filled trough. One final well-timed leap and she was clear. Out of breath, Brandi spun to face her friends, slinging dirt towards them. Her mirrors had broken off during her roll, her roof and side were dented but not completely crumpled like you'd expect from most rollover vehicles. Her fender bore the long scrape of the boulder and her paint was completely scratched up.

Mater chuckled, "Whoo, you look rough, girl! By lookin' at ya I can't tell who won an' who lost!"

"Yeah, well, I don't have the gear I usually use so … it was much more difficult than I'm used to," Brandi smiled sheepishly.

After Guido replaced his flats, Lightning rolled over to her at a loss for words.

"Having fun yet, Mr. McQueen?" She asked him.

"I'm not sure. I don't like losing, especially to a- uh," McQueen stopped and thought better of his word choice. "I just don't like losing. Where'd you learn to drive like that?"

"You may be a professional racer but you still have a lot to learn about driving," she answered. "You racecars are all alike. Speed. Speed. Speed. When you drive like that, you're trading control for power."

"So, you're saying if I slow down my driving will improve," he laughed incredulously.

"It'd be a start."

"I know that already, but I don't have to worry about jumps, and slaloms, and cacti in my races. Speed is everything there!"

"That's fine, but I'm not a racecar. I'm not a car at all so I can't rely on speed to save me."

McQueen didn't understand her response, "'Save you?' What are you talking about?"

The tow truck interjected, "Oh, ya mean like as a firefighter back in Sonoma? Ya learned all that stuff as part of yer firefightin' trainin', right?"

"Not quite, Mater. My driving techniques definitely came in handy there, in fact, they might've been the only reason they accepted my application in the first place. Even though Roush and Eugene said they only hired us because they needed some bigger, slower vehicles to do all the heavy lifting. There were so many times my story might've ended differently if I had just hoped I was fast enough to get away," Brandi reminisced solemnly. "No, I learned a long time ago that even the swiftest cars can perish if they don't use their heads and have a strong foundation of driving skills to fall back on."

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Why are we talking about death?! You're supposed to be telling us how a non-racer like yourself learned to do all that!" Yelled the frustrated racecar.

Brandi rolled her eyes at his unintentional insult and sighed, "Mr. McQueen, my driving skill is the very difference between life and death. Not just because I fight disaster to save lives, but because I survive adversity to fight intolerance."

The TrailBlazer left the men and started back to town. She hadn't called him intolerant directly but when she said it, McQueen knew that arrow was aimed at him … and hurt a little.

"Hey, don't leave. I'm sorry," Lightning apologized. "When I said 'non-racer' I didn't mean that you couldn't be a racer, I just meant that you don't race currently."

Brandi glared at him, "How do you know what I do? You don't know anything about me."

"That's not true. I know you're a hero from Sonoma, and that you have a 'fancy college degree', and that you like tractor tipping, and that you're somehow a better driver than me, and that you're not a big fan of most cars, ... but you're a good person so you're gonna forgive me and show me how to do your crazy awesome automotive parkour."

Brandi smiled a bit at his obsequiousness, "Look at me, Mr. McQueen. Do I look like I'm ready to do that all over again right now?"

"Do I?" He countered. "I've still got cacti where the sun doesn't shine! We can take a break to get all freshened up and then meet back here. ASAP."

Back in town, Brandi wasted no time rolling into Ramone's House of Body Art.

"Ay Dios mio!" The Impala shouted at the sight of her. "What happened to you?!"

"I tripped," Brandi answered flatly.

"On what? A land mine?!"

"No, a rock … I think."

"Ay, Mamacita, get over here."

Ramone spent hours pulling dents and straightening out her sheet metal. Once she was restored to her former smoothness, he sprayed her with several protective layers of primer. A fresh coat of paint could wait.

Brandi admired her repairs in the store's full body mirror, "Wow, Mr. Ramone, you're amazing! You didn't use any filler at all."

"Yeah, I know. I prefer to keep my client's bodies as pure as I can, ya know," he chuckled before becoming quite serious. "But about this 'trip' of yours. The damage suggested you rolled … A LOT. Is this your first rollover?"

As an SUV, and an impetuous one at that, Brandi was no stranger to rollovers. She'd learned from a young age that her higher center of gravity would put her at a disadvantage in everything beyond off-roading and a flood. Even in school, as a child, car kids would take turns purposely trying to knock her over. The first chance she got, she had her roof and sides reinforced with the best set of interior roll bars money could buy, and since rolling didn't hurt anymore she would often intentionally roll herself to insure that she was still tough as nails.

"Of course not. I'm the Rollover Queen. Heh, I've rolled over so many times before that I can even right myself now … as long as I don't land on my roof that is," replied Brandi, proud of the skill she'd learned.

Ramone just stared on in dread, "Ya know rolling is a _bad_ thing, right?"

"Yeah, if you don't know how to do it properly. In the worlds of racing and rescue, it's something that inevitably happens sometimes so the best thing you can do is learn to exit a roll safely."

"That is something I would expect a firefighter to say," he nodded. "But I've got an idea. If I fit you with independent suspension systems in both the front and back you'll be able to raise and lower all your tires individually while keeping your chassis level. This should give you better control over your center of gravity and lower your rollover risk. If you want, I can even remove your wheel wells so you can lower yourself even more when necessary."

"Really?! I've always wanted to try that but … I could never afford such an upgrade," she longed dejectedly.

"For now, we'll just try it out, okay? We can worry about possible payment later."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I haven't gotten to do a suspension swap since I did my own," said the lowrider, guiding her back onto the lift. "This is art, baby. You can't put a price on it."

It was early afternoon when Brandi left Ramone's shop and she couldn't believe how quickly he'd finished working on her. Ramone had to be the greatest body artist on the planet she thought as she passed the Casa Della Tires on her way back towards Willys Butte.

"Signorina Brandi, come quick!" Luigi called from the tire store.

Worried that the little vehicles might be in trouble she rushed inside, "What's wrong, Mr. - whoa!"

Before she could even finish her statement the forklift had swapped out her tires with four brand new dirt racing ones.

"If you are-a gonna race on-a dirt, you must-a have the dirt tires," Luigi explained. "I cannot watch-a another horrific rollover like-a before."

"Thank you, but I wasn't even hurt before," the TrailBlazer protested.

The little Italian car gave her a serious glare, "So you only know-a to stop once-a you've been hurt?"

"No, it's just … I'm sorry. I'm not really used to _cars_ worrying about me. Thank you though, I really do appreciate this."

"Bravo, let's go-a! Lightning is-a waiting."

Back at Willys Butte, Lightning was showing off for his girlfriend.

"Sally, you should've seen it! I though she was gonna die, but then she jumped out of the roll and flipped off the mesa. It was insane! An SUV, Sally! An SUV did that! Can you believe it?!" He ranted ecstatically as he did his best to imitate the feat on the ground.

"What does it matter if she's an SUV or not?" Asked Sally.

"Well … it, it … doesn't really," Lightning faltered. "She's just bigger and not as agile as a car … like … Mater. You wouldn't expect Mater to beat me in a race would you?"

"If the race was backwards I might," Sally gave him a concerned look. "Just like Mater is a better backwards driver, Brandi clearly has driving abilities that she's better at than you too. They may not be built for speed but speed isn't everything, Hun. Also, she's coming back so you might wanna ix-nay on the acism-ray."

"'Acism-ray?'" It took the racecar a second to decode his girlfriend's message. "Hey! I'm not ra-"

Just then, Brandi pulled up behind him, "Alright, Mr. McQueen. Now I'm equipped to show you some 'automotive parkour.' Oh, and first of all it's called gymkhana."

He turned to check her out, "Whoa! Yes you are! Nice primer by the way."

"Hey there, ev'rybody!" Mater called, just arriving as well. "Nice tires, Brandi. You look ready to kick some asphalt. Heh, get it?!"

"Not just tires, a whole new suspension system!" Said Brandi, doing a little dance to show off the new flexibility of her wheels.

"Dadgum! We should have a dance off, right after you 'n' me race backwards 'round Willys Butte one time! Let's go!" The tow truck sped off in reverse heading for the racetrack.

"Hey! We're not even gonna start at the starting line?!" Brandi yelled, backing after him.

Lightning smiled as he watched the two larger vehicles play. Mater beat the TrailBlazer in the backwards race and then shifted into a victory dance that Brandi joined in on. Eventually, they came laughing back to McQueen.

"Alright, ya win tha dance. I need me a fancy 'n-dee-pen-den' suspension," guffawed Mater before addressing his best friend. "I don't wanna waste anymore o' yer trainin' time, buddy. I know ya want Brandi to teach ya her swanky moves."

"Ok, I can try to teach you but it's not really something you'll learn like that," Brandi explained.

Lightning was warmed up and ready, and he shifted from side to side in anticipation, "Just teach me the same way it was taught to you."

"Okay, but … I'd have to throw you into a tornado."

He froze, "Excuse me, what?"

"I told you; they're skills you pick up when you're trying not to die. That's the only way you can really push yourself past preconceived limitations. You don't have a choice."

"Someone threw you into a tornado?! Why?!"

She grinned to herself as she recalled the memories, "It's a long story."

"Ooh! Ooh! Is this th' one 'bout th' flyin' tractors?!" Mater bounced excitedly.

"As a matter of fact," Brandi began. "It is…"

* * *

 **They talk about their years in this chapter. Just because Brandi is a 2002 that doesn't mean she's only 15 years old. She is a fully grown young adult. I imagine cars age kind of like dogs where they reach maturity quickly, and then their aging slows down as they enter adulthood. However, unlike dogs, their adulthood just stretches on for what seems like forever (much longer than a human). This explains how Lizzie and the Legends of Cars 3 can still be alive and kicking.**


End file.
